


Count on Me

by MrsMoosie



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 1800’s Stuff, Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Drunk Anathema, Drunk Aziraphale (Good Omens), Drunk Crowley (Good Omens), Drunk Newton, F/M, Heavy Drinking, Lots of wine, Maybe a drop of blood, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23156713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMoosie/pseuds/MrsMoosie
Summary: Anathema and Newton are drunk and asking questions about history and books. Aziraphale, to Crowley’s dismay, indulges.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 161





	Count on Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was a short break for me as I dabble into a 45,000+ word monster. Just a bit of slight smut and fun that’s been pestering me for weeks. Heed the warnings! If you don’t like Fem Az don’t read it. 😁

Aziraphale found himself quite drunk at the bookshop with Newton, Anathema and Crowley. It was quite some time after their first official, botch-poalypse meeting, and the topic of history came up. Aziraphale knew it would- after all, they were over 6,000 years old. You see a thing or two after that long. Humans were naturally curious creatures, after all.

“Now how… How did these people come up with these wild ideas?  _ Books _ I mean.” Newton sputtered out. Anathema sniggered and took another sip of wine, waving her hand.

“Like… Like _Dracula._ ” She nodded, waving her wine to the side and pointing at Crowley, “Like… _Vampires._ _You._ ” She wagged her finger at Crowley, “You _look_ like a vampire. Are you? _Are you?”_

Crowley snorted and poured himself more wine. He was the most sober of the four. “You wish I was a vampire. With all your uh… Your conspiracies and magazines book girl.” 

“I know. I know the story of the real Dracula.” Aziraphale smiled proudly, swigging back the rest of his glass. Everyone stopped and looked at Aziraphale. Crowley frowned and shook his head rapidly.

“Oh No! No, no, no.” He shook his head furiously, “No. Nnnn-” He burped- “No.”

“Oh,  _ yeeees _ . Yes, yes,  _ yes _ !” Anathema smirked and bounced in her seat to get more comfortable. Newton wiped his face and nodded, looking to Anathema.

“I… I’m drunk sure I’m… you’re pretty.” He mutters out. Anathema giggled.

“So! Puh-lease tell your story.” She said, intently, sipping more wine. Crowley grumbled and crossed his legs and arms in his favorite spot on the couch. 

Aziraphale cleared his throat, “I’m a bit… a bit drunk so I’m sorry if this is all wrong. I’m going to have to leave out some details though for confend- confedal… Secrets.  _ Personal! _ ” He slurred.

***

The unfiltered story goes something like this. 

A young man was walking down a quiet, foggy street in Transylvania, the mid 1850’s. There was a single street torch lit, it was a cool and damp night. The full moon allowed for more light to reflect off the wet cobblestone. His life was about to change forever.

Meanwhile in an ally, Crowley had slammed Aziraphale, a woman at the time, against a brick wall of a building, attacking her mouth. Her dark blue governess dress protected her from the cold brick, golden hair pinned up and curled perfectly to the sides. The ruffles around the neckline of her dress accentuated her breasts, heaving under Crowley’s rough ministrations to them. Aziraphale groaned softly, back arching into the touch, increasingly sensitive. Crowley was in all black as usual, a long overcoat covering most of what his hands were doing to the woman before him. His tophat had wound up down the alleyway as Aziraphale ran her hands into his fire red hair.

“Please, my love we mustn’t do this here. Someone may see.”

“I don’t care… You are absolutely  _ ravishing _ . I  _ must _ have you here.  _ Now _ . Like this.” Crowley growled. With a snap a well disguised slit appeared on the side of her skirts. This allowed his hand access to her most sensitive spot. One hand continued to massage her breast, the other traced down between her thighs. His fingers danced over and under the wet cloth he found. Aziraphale tilted her head back, trembling, moaning. She spread her legs slightly, allowing for more. Crowley’s mouth moved straight to the exposed skin of her neck. Aziraphale pulled his head closer with a shuddering moan. His other hand grabbed Aziraphale’s wrist, holding her steady against the brick as long fingers danced. He was tempted to drop to his knees, to run his teeth and tongue over her, make Aziraphale squirm and moan and scream. No… Not yet.

A young man moved closer to the alleyway, unknowing of the presence of the two supernatural beings that were having a moment. He heard a noise and stopped, hand to his chest, freightened. There were noises, scuffling. It wasn’t normal. He captured pieces of the conversation between the people in the alley.

“Pretty… Blood... Suck you…”

Now, Crowley had  _ actually  _ said “Shit… Aziraphale... Your pretty little cunt is so  _ wet _ . Bloody hell… If you had a cock I would suck you off right now.”. 

The young man didn’t hear this though, so quite a few things then happened at once.

The young man jumped into the alley, shouting out to chase away the attacker. 

Aziraphale’s hand in Crowley’s hair pulled entirely too hard and he yelped.

Crowley’s hair being pulled and Aziraphale’s reaction scared him so bad his fangs came out mid bite into Aziraphale’s neck and pierced the skin.

This caused Aziraphale to nearly scream at the sudden bite and she pushed Crowley away.

Crowley looked to the man and hissed at him, fangs showing before turning into a snake and slithering down the alley, clothes left in a heap in front of Aziraphale.. 

It being so incredibly dark, the young man didn’t see the snake. It seemed like the man had just vanished.

The young man rushed to Aziraphale in panic, “Madame! Madam, are you alright?”

Aziraphale slapped a hand over the bite and nodded, dazed, “Yes… what? Who are you? I’m… I’m quite fine, thank you young sir.” She blinked her eyes and wished she could heal the wound. 

“You’re injured! That… that  _ monster _ ! He  _ bit  _ you, Madame are… are you certain?”

“Ah… well yes. That…”

***

Anathema and Newton  _ gaped _ , silent. A minute went by. They burst into a fit of giggles.

Crowley hid his face in his hand, cheeks red, completely and utterly embarrassed.

He was Count Dracula. He might consider moving back to Hell to avoid the constant annoyance about it. Aziraphale looked confused.

“It’s not funny, it’s a classic novel and Crowley was the inspiration! It’s a wonderful story!” Aziraphale frowned, leaning back in his chair, sipping more wine.

“Aziraphale… You… You and… and  _ Count Chocula _ !” Anathema laughed. 

“Uh… uh… oh! You’re like that muppet... The Count!” Newton joined in, leaning into her and laughing just as hard.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley and shrugged, sipping his wine. He was glad they didn’t ask about anything worse. No reason to delve too deep into books and movies… Some stones are better left unturned.

**Author's Note:**

> Blah! 🧛🏻


End file.
